


The More Things Change (aka Plus  Change...)

by maven



Series: Policy and Procedure [7]
Category: Birds of Prey (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maven/pseuds/maven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving on to the next stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Things Change (aka Plus  Change...)

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Alternative Universe as it’s a blend of the Birds of Prey television show and a variety of DC comic books, particularity The Killing Joke and the Batman titles between 1983 and 1991.

It's not like I'm ignoring her. It's not like it's even possible to ignore nearly six feet of almost naked, sweat glistened, muscular Helena Kyle leaning oh so causally against Delphi, neck arching as she swallows a bottle of water and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. No, ignoring would be the wrong term/p>

Torturing would be a much better word but I'm not exactly sure which one of us it is that I'm torturing. 

"Bit of action in the north end..." 

"Glad someone's getting some action," she mutters. 

"...but the police seem to have it well in hand," I continue. 

"Night off?" she asks hopefully. 

"Maybe," I allow, attention on the monitor. "Got plans?" 

"Oh, yes." 

The problem with plasma monitors is that they don't reflect. I lose track of her when she steps away from the desk. Radar sense would come in handy. 

"Interesting plans?" I ask casually, trying very hard to concentrate on the stream of data and numbers that represents something very, very important in the fight against crime. 

"Mood music," she says abruptly from my left shoulder. I concentrate on not giving any indication that I heard her. I can hear her rummaging through the CDs and then literally bouncing back to take up her lounging position against my desk. From the corner of my eye I can see her raise the remote and jab a button. 

"You call that mood music?" I ask in surprise. I'm busted on the pretence that I was ignoring her but she doesn't call me on it. 

"Romeo and Juliet? Yeah." 

"Most people would choose Tchaikovsky's over Baz Luhhrmann's." 

"Well," she said, physically rotating my chair despite the brake so that I face her. "I'm not most people. And I wasn't going for a romantic mood." 

"Oh?" 

"No, more like this mood," she says as the vocals begin, joining in, whispering the words into my ear. "I've been dying just to feel you by my side, to know that you're mine." 

"Helena?" 

"Yes, Barbara?" she says, breath tickling my ear. 

"Kiss me now." 

The tickling travels across my cheek and then my lips and I feel the chair shift as her weight is added. And my brain switches from processing to collection. 

This is different than before. Before kissing Helena was all about exploring what was happening between us with a healthy dose of hormones thrown into the mix. This was seduction, pure and simple. This was toe curling, breath taking, bell ringing... 

"Helena. Delphi. Alarm." 

"Wha?" 

"Delphi. The alarm." 

"You mean those are real bells I'm hearing?" 

"Helena!" 

"I'm serious. I heard bells," she says glancing up at the monitor. Her attitude shifted suddenly from playful to serious as she stands. "It's the kid." 

"What? Where is she?" I ask, spinning the chair and reaching for the comm controls while I look up. There's a little icon of a canary flashing in the centre of the main monitor. 

"She said she was heading to the mall," Helena says as I turn up the volume on the speakers. 

"Boy, I wish I'd gone to the mall instead of the new dance place on O'Neill." Dinah's voice comes clearly over the comms. 

"This is so unfair," Helena says. She ducks into her room and returns almost immediately; hopping as she pulls her leather pants on over her workout shorts. The elevator doors open as she reaches them and she pauses only long enough to grab her boots and duster. "I'm taking the bike. I'll be back fast so just press pause," she instructs, motioning toward the stereo and my chair. "On everything." 

"Shut the hell up!" says a male voice over the speaker as the elevator doors close. "Stop saying that!" 

"What, you think some omniscient being is listening to this?" Dinah says. "I mean, do I look like I have a cell phone on me." 

"Huntress is enroute, Canary." 

"Thank God." 

"What?" demands the male voice. 

"Praying!" Dinah says. "Thank God, no one's been hurt - - " 

"Yet," I mutter. 

"Yet," Dinah adds, under her breath. " Although ambulances might be a good idea. ETA?" 

"Soon. Hang tight." 

"No problem. What kind of mood is she in?" 

"Frustrated," slips out of my id before I can engage the super-ego. 

"Great. Should be out of here in record time." 

Waiting is hard. Waiting with only sound is hardest. Dinah mutters the occasional update that I relay to Helena until there's an explosion of sound. 

"Hel... Huntress is here," Dinah informs me. 

"So I hear." 

"She looks ticked," Dinah says, as there's another loud crash. 

"So I hear." 

"Whoops. That one tripped over air and fell down," Dinah says with too much enjoyment. 

"Keep it low key, Canary. I don't want you spotted." 

"I will. Ooooh, bet that hurt." 

"Canary, what's that sound?" I ask. 

"Umm, Helena throwing some guy into a table?" 

"No. Sounds like music. What on earth is the DJ thinking of?" 

"Well, you know, ooooh, nice flying scissor kick, umm, well, She Bangs is very appropriate." 

I groan and adjust my glasses. The mayhem, complete with soundtrack, continues. 

"Grab a hostage. The mouthy blond is mine!" 

"Huntress!" I warn. 

"I'm on it!" 

"Eeek!" I'm relieved that Dinah sounds more startled than scared. 

There's another crash and Huntress' voice comes low over the speaker. "Do you know what I should be doing?" There's the sound of a body being slammed repeatedly against the wall. "Instead of beating the crap out of you?" Slam. "Vroom." Slam. "Fricking." Slam. "Vroom!" 

"Canary, status?" 

"I'm fine. She's on the last one." 

"Do you know what the hell she's talking about?" 

"Ummm, yeah." 

"Can you explain it to me?" I ask in exasperation when no explanation is volunteered. 

"Ummm, no." 

"You can't?" 

"Well, technically, yes I can. But for your and my peace of mind; no, I won't. Nu-huh. No way. Not a chance. She's ah, done by the way. I can hear sirens." 

"Alright. Huntress, you'd better make yourself scarce. Canary, can you leave?" 

"I came with Gabby but we got separated when everything started." 

I groan and suddenly the logistics seem beyond me. 

"I got it," Helena says firmly. "Comms off and see you in a bit." 

+++++ 

When the alarm sounds in the garage I start putting the Delphi onto standby mode and by the time the door opens I'm waiting in the vestibule. 

She's leaning against the back wall of the elevator, resting on her hands, head bowed. There's a three count after the door opens and then she looks up slightly, feral eyes peaking through her bangs. 

It's got to be a pose. 

A damn effective one I acknowledge as my pulse skips and then hammers in my ears. 

"Where were we?" I ask. 

"I was about to carry you to your bedroom and stretch the limits of your and my imagination to the extreme." 

"Oh," I manage. "Really?" 

She simply nods. She still hasn't moved and it takes a conscious effort for me to not fiddle with the chair's wheels; my version of pacing or fidgeting. 

"Where's Dinah?" 

"At my place if she knows what's good for her. She accidentally touched me before the cops arrived. Gabby thought it was the shock of the experience and decided to stay with her." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. Thought she was going to prove the spontaneous combustion theory for a minute. " 

I'm thinking I'm about to prove the theory myself. Which is interesting because five feet of air separate us. And then it's three feet and then one foot and then she's crouched at my feet, forearms on the chair's armrest. She's hidden her eyes behind her hair again and her fingers pluck at the padding of the chair. 

"What's wrong?" I ask as she frowns, her head cocked to the side, as if listening. 

"I thought I told you to press pause." 

I hear the song coming faintly from the computer area. "I um, pressed auto replay instead." 

"How many times?" 

"About ten." 

"About?" 

"Exactly eleven times." 

"And?" 

"I'm playing catch-up," I answer, not talking about the song at all. "Ever since you turned off the monitor, since you said you wanted a chance, I've been playing catch-up. You've had more time to get use to this idea." 

"And it's scary?" she asks, peeking up and inching closer. "This idea?" 

"Yes." 

"Terrifying, even?" she asks, so close I can't focus on her features. 

"Oh, yes." 

"Like leaping off a building with only a rope no thicker than your baby finger to save you?" she asks, breath tickling my left ear. 

I try to answer but apparently spoken language is beyond me. 

"Like jumping between two carjackers and their victim?" she asks, breath trailing across my clavicle and settling by my right ear. 

I still have some voluntary movement and my head jerks in a nod, my face brushed by her hair. 

"Like spinning around the low bar twice and then letting go and trusting that you can find the high bar? That your strength and the talc on your hands will be more than the gravity?" 

"More." I manage and the one word unleashes what I've been unable to articulate until now. "It feels like nothing I've ever done has prepared me for you. I practiced and trained for those things. There was no chance involved." 

She nods understanding before settling back on her heels and I feel both loss and relief. "So, you wanna leap, jump, let go? Or do you wanna plan, practice, theorize some more?" 

"I'm not sure." 

"If it's the whole 'girl on girl' deal that's bugging you I can assure you that it's pretty intuitive." 

"First, your assumption that I have no experience in this is unfounded. Second, even if it were, I have the greatest research tool ever created to keep me up to date on all matters. Regardless, the whole 'girl on girl' deal, as you call it, is not the problem." 

I take a certain perverse pleasure in her expression. "Wow." 

"What?" 

"I don't know what's more surprising. The idea of you being with another woman or using the Delphi to download lesbian porn." She blinks a few times as if considering. "Downloading porn wins. Barbara, for shame. But you can make it up to me by sharing the downloads. Maybe hack them into my new Sony for those boring stakeouts? 

"The other?" I ask. It's curiosity, not concern over her reaction. 

"Well," she says, trying unsuccessfully to hide the smile, "I'm going to want the details, of course. And I kinda had my heart set on being some kind of first for you." 

"Well, if it's any consolation, I have the sincere belief that you're going to be the last for me." 

The admission catches us both by surprise. "Yeah," she says hoarsely. "That makes up for it." 

"If I decide to leap, jump or let go," I ask, "will you catch me?" 

She smiles before ducking her head and I wonder what's so fascinating about my knees. "Well, yeah, I'll catch you but I'm not sure it'll do any good." 

"Why?" 

"Because I've already jumped and've been falling ever since," and she looks up and her eyes are such a colour of blue that I suddenly wish I could write the poetry I teach. She turns her attention back to my knees. "I'm going to grab a shower because between the work out and now this I really need one. Can I use yours?" 

"Sure." 

"And then I was going to lounge in bed and watch a movie." 

"There's no TV in your room," I say automatically. When she moved out the TV was the first thing that she took. Two seconds later I resist the urge to smack myself on the forehead. Genius my ass - dropped as a baby, hell yes. 

"Luckily I have one, right?" I manage. If she's going to be strong enough to give me another out, another chance to delay my commitment to us than I have to be brave enough not to take it. 

"So does Dinah's room," she says softly. 

I'm sure there are a million and five reasonable arguments but the only thing I can produce is a plaintive, "No." 

"No?" she asks. "No it doesn't have a TV or no..." 

"No, my room." I reach out and gently raise her head so that I can see her face. "Tell me about the first time. When you realized how you felt about me." I'm not sure why it's important to know this. Except that it's data and I always work better with data. 

"First time I saw you on the uneven bars I thought you were almost as cool as my mom. First time I realized I loved you I was 12 and you'd just given me a hug for my beam routine. First time I hated you was when I was seventeen. First time I realized you were my family I was eighteen. First time I realized that I had never lost that crush I was nineteen, watching you charm everyone at the annual cop dance. First time I realized that I would never let you out of my life was when I jumped off that balcony with you whispering in my ear." 

"Helena?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Cleanliness is overrated." 

She grins. "Can I carry you?" 

I hesitate. But either it's too brief for her to notice or she was expecting it. "Yes." 

"May I carry you?" 

She's taking such childlike glee with my 'can I' versus 'may I' nitpick that my agreement comes without any hesitation. I hold up my arms and she smoothly scoops me up. She burrows her face into my neck. "Can you see?" I ask. 

"No. I've barely got walking down so you'll have to steer." 

I laugh, "Teamwork." 

"Yeah, we're better together than apart. Two parts." 

"You saying that together we make a whole person?" 

"Nope. I'm saying together we're complete." 

+++++ 

I stretch, or half stretch, my hand connecting with a bare arm. Eyes still closed, savouring the darkness and tactile, I back track, finding the arm again and resting my hand there. 

"Morning, Hel," I say, drawing a circle with my thumb. 

"Barbara. We need to talk." 

I sit bolt upright, dropping Dinah's arm to prop myself up. She's sitting cross-legged beside me, head bowed and, from the little I can see of her expression, looking positively stricken. Helena is curled up at my feet wrapped in a quilt with only the top of her head and her toes showing. My chair has been moved from the front hall to beside my bed, not where I would leave it or Helena would know to put it, which means... 

"Dinah, what's wrong?" Because it would have to be something catastrophic to make her come into my bedroom this morning. 

"I, um, it's complicated." 

"Complicated?" I manage. Complicated with teenagers usually only means one thing but I grasp at less complicated complications. "Something with your powers or something else?" I try to shift myself down the bed, trying to nudge Helena awake by poking her with my toes but I just can't move enough of my body without being obvious. 

"Both," Dinah whispers. She suddenly looks up, expression turning to anger. "It's Helena's fault!" 

"What?" I ask. 

"What?" mumbles Helena, a few more inches of head appearing from under the quilt. 

"That I and Gabby, that we, that... I'm going to hell." 

"What?" I ask instinctively, even though I'm figuring it out. 

"What? Helena asks incredulously. "You and Gabby did the deed and it's my fault?" 

"Yes," Dinah hissed. "All vroom-vroom and only one bed and a lumpy couch and a shower that only runs for two minutes." 

"Dinah," I say in my absolute best neutral tone. 

"What am I going to do?" she wails. 

"Where is Gabby now?" I ask, beginning damage control. 

"Playing Half-life on the Delphi," Dinah answers. 

"Playing Half-life?" asks Helena with her 'my toys' tone of voice. 

"On Delphi?" I ask, trying hard to avoid my own 'my toys' voice. A great deal of architectural magic had gone into designing the clock tower so that the public areas are separate from the more questionable equipment. Delphi was in the 'questionable' category. "How did you explain Delphi?" 

"I didn't have to," Dinah says, head ducking back down. 

"Why not?" 

"Because apparently my telepathy isn't just receiving in certain circumstances." 

"Oh." 

"Fuck," moans Helena. 

"How much does she know?" 

"I think 'everything' covers it. I skinned my knee roller-skating when I was five. I'd forgotten all about it. She punched my codes into both the elevator and the Delphi." 

"Oh." 

"Fuck," moans Helena. 

"What am I going to do?" Dinah asks miserably. 

"Suffer through Barbara's version of The Talk," Helena said. "And we'll figure it out the rest. Can you give Barbara and me a few minutes? We'll be out soon." 

"Yeah, sure. I'll go and avoid talking to Gabby while she avoids looking at me," Dinah pleads. "Please hurry." 

I watched Dinah walk to the door. "What are we going to..." 

I'm interrupted by a naked body hitting mine full on, an embrace and kiss that leaves me breathless. "Three things. First, this is how I expected to spend the morning after, okay? Not with angsty teenagers." 

"Okay," I manage. 

"Second thing, we'll figure this out." 

"Okay," I nod, her confidence carrying me over my little crisis. "Third thing?" 

"Dibs on the shower!" she grins, leaping from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. 

+++++ 

Dinah is sitting forlornly on the couch when I emerge, hands demurely on her knees and her focus on some unseen object about a million miles away. 

"Morning," I say. She starts and then smiles tentatively. 

"Hey." 

"Where's... everyone?" 

"Alfred showed up when Helena came out of your bedroom, sort of looked around and mumbled something about shopping and estrogen and left. Helena and Gabby are in the training room bonding over poptarts and music. They kicked me out. I'm... right here." 

"Feeling more settled?" 

"In some ways. But whole new vistas are opening to get me all jumbly again. I'm..." 

"What?" 

"Afraid. What if I can't control this? Ever? Like, do I have to wear gloves like on Babylon 5 and never be... close or... and what if I did something bad last night? What if I..." 

"What if Gabby wasn't willing and you used your powers to make her?" 

Nod. 

"Do you think that's what happened?" 

"No. But wanting something doesn't make it the truth." 

"No it doesn't but being scared of something doesn't make it bigger than it really is." 

"What's happening with me?" 

I settle back and let the analytical part of my brain run free. "I assumed that because all the metahumans I'm aware of came into their full abilities at one time it would be the same with you. I was wrong and it was a dangerous assumption. Especially considering that I knew the telekinetic abilities manifested later than the receptive telepathy. I owe you an apology, Dinah. This should have been anticipated and a plan developed." 

"Oh. It's okay." 

"No, it's not. No one was physically hurt but both you and Gabby were exposed to something you weren't ready for." Exposed to. Sometimes I amaze even myself with my inability to be human. "I touched your arm this morning? Did you pick anything up?" 

"No. Should I have?" 

"Well, I thought I was touching Helena." 

She blushes a red usually reserved for tomatoes. "No," she squeaks. "Nothing. Is that good?" 

"All things considered, yes. It means that there's an off setting. We just have to find it." I rock back and forth. "We were wrong to concentrate on training the telekinetics. We need to develop both sides of the telepathy as well. " 

"Sounds like extra homework," she says with a wry smile. 

"Summer school," I agree cheerfully. 

"Do you think I... that Gabby... that I did something?" Dinah asks, the light mood gone as her early fears arise and I smack myself mentally for not addressing them fully. 

"Dinah. You proved to yourself earlier this year that you were incapable of murdering someone, even someone responsible for the death of your mother. So no, I know you're not capable of rape." 

She rocks back, face pale at the term I've used aloud. She nods once and then ducks her head to hide and I allow it while cursing silently people who could raise a child capable of believing that they're intrinsically evil. That they're capable of evil acts simply because they're different. 

"Hey, why the long faces?" 

"Yeah, you're super-heroes!" 

Dinah and I look up at Helena, arm loose over Gabby's shoulders. They're both grinning like maniacs. 

"Everything okay?" I ask, keeping it vague. 

"Everything's cool," Helena confirms. 

"I wanna join." 

Dinah makes a soft moaning sound. "Gabby," I say, "metapowers are extremely rare and..." 

"You don't have metapowers," she interrupts. 

"Well, no," I allow. "But I don't go out on the street..." 

"But you use to. And you don't have meta powers." 

She seemed much more polite in school; never interrupting. "Yes. True." Time to switch tactics. "What we do is very dangerous..." 

"No. What Helena does is dangerous. What Dinah does is sort of dangerous. What you and Alfred do isn't dangerous. At least, no more dangerous than merely living in New Gotham is." 

I resolve to check with Gabby's guidance counsellor. If law didn't come up as a strong suggestion there's something wrong with the system. "Gabby, I can't..." 

"Ms Gordon, I'll be eighteen in a couple of months. I can drive. I've got solid grades in both science and maths. I've lived here all my life and know the area better than Dinah. I can't do what Helena and Dinah do. I realize that. But I can do things that make them safer." 

"I can't stop you?" 

"Yeah, you can. But I hope you don't." 

Helena is looking anywhere but at me. Dinah has this proud look on her face. And Gabby looks resolved and calm. 

"I won't decide this morning. We, all four of us, need to talk this over. Set guidelines and schedules and..." 

From the whoops and hollers coming from Gabby and Dinah I might as well have said yes. And I suppose I have. Helena merely smiles and shakes her head but with resignation rather than negation. Gabby literally hops over to sit on the couch beside Dinah while Helena takes the few steps necessary to stand at my side. 

"On a more serious note," Gabby says, turning and facing Dinah. Dinah tries to duck down, hiding behind her hair, again but Gabby simply reaches out and grabs her chin, arresting the motion. "Whoa, you get to listen. Helena talked to me some. About how getting metapowers can be like puberty cubed. That stuff happens that you don't know how to control. She said that when she was getting her powers she hurt people without meaning to." 

I glance at Helena who, in turn, is focused on Dinah and Gabby. I recognize the expression on her face though, the locked down one and I realize that there's still one or a million secrets between us. 

"Anyway," Gabby says, continuing, "what happened last night happened. And while you were in here," she says, touching her own forehead, "I was also in here," she continues, touching Dinah's forehead. "And there was nothing mean or cruel in there. You're still my friend. We'll figure out the rest slowly and without your parents listening, okay?" 

Dinah nods and Helena snorts and I breathe a soft sigh of relief. 

"Now," Gabby says, "to continue with the previous discussion. Do I get a uniform? 'Cause I betchya I look just as kick ass as Helena does in leather." 

"No," I say. 

"Code name?" 

"Yes," I sigh. Yes, apparently I did say yes to her assisting us. In a non-combat, perfectly safe manner. 

"Do I get to pick it or will you make it up?" Gabby asks, distaste at the idea of my choosing the name evident. I thought I made up pretty good code names. 

"You can. Subject to group approval," I allow. 

"Hey, I didn't get to make mine up!" yells Helena. 

"Me either!" 

"What's wrong with them?" I ask. 

"Well, Huntress is okay but Canary is kinda lame," Helena says. 

I run over her toes. 

Accidentally. 

Twice. 

Dinah and Gabby beat a retreat to Dinah's room while Helena hops around, finally coming to land on my lap. 

"Things have changed," she announces in what has got to be the understatement of the new century. 

"They usually do," I comment, hugging her close. 

"In big jerking lurches?" 

"In my life they do." 

She falls silent for a couple of minutes. "I guess they do," she says, tugging absent-mindedly at the back of my chair, pulling yet another emotional 180-degree turn. "I guess I'm sitting here because of one of them." 

I wonder if that night is ever going to stop haunting us. "I wish she hadn't died. I wish I wasn't crippled. But I'm glad I survived; that I lived. I'm glad you weren't physically harmed." 

She leans back to look at me, expression serious before she smiles. "Yeah." 

"Just yeah?" 

"Just yeah. Sometimes life really sucks but most of the time it rocks." 

"Helena Kyle's philosophy of life?" 

She shrugs. "Easier to spray paint on walls than 'plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose'. The little upside down V always drips into the E." I stare at her. "What?" 

"Nothing," I say. "You got plans for the morning?" 

"Install an auto pilot for the chair." 

"Why?" 

"So it can get us to the bedroom without banging into too many walls." 

"Oh." 

"Or we can just bang into some walls," she says with mock seriousness, ducking down to kiss me. 

And, all things considered, it was worth the dry walling repair bill. 

END


End file.
